Lakeland by Allan Casey

Lakeland
by Allan Casey
Greystone Books, 2009
352 pages

If it is a wizard you seek, find one who has seen enough for his hair to go grey.

I placed the e-copy of this on hold quite a while ago in the hopes of reading it at some point. It's the One Book One Community book for my region this year, and I'd been thinking of reading it anyway after hearing Allan Casey interviewed. It's kind of a brave choice for OBOC, though it's not out of line from some of their earlier choices (ie. The 100-Mile Diet). To get a whole community to read a non-fiction book isn't easy, but this is an excellent choice. Perhaps I'm only saying that because it's right up my regular reading alley anyway, though.

Casey has structured this book as a sort of travelogue; he undertook to visit important Canadian lakes (excluding the Canadian lakes we always think of, that is, Erie, Ontario, Huron and Superior, which aren't exclusively Canadian anyway) and write one chapter per lake. He looks at the environmental context and also the cultural importance of the lakes, in some cases their economics, in others their biology, and often both. Each chapter introduces us to at least one person with life-long ties to the lake in question, and sometimes to others with more fleeting ties.

It's not always a comfortable or comforting book to read, in that Casey is a clear-eyed and practical recorder of events, people, places, and problems. He's not unrealistically optimistic. He's also not gloomy, either, which can be the other (and more common) problem with books of this sort. This book is also not a call-to-action, which are the sorts of environmental reads I hate most, because they tend to get me all fired up and then, almost immediately, I feel desperate and guilty, impotent and ashamed. Lakeland more of a call to awareness, and a very effective one at that. What this means is that I often think about the book, and the lakes, and our relationship to them, in ways that I haven't done before, without becoming mired in that perennial environmental problem of apathy born of a feeling of hopelessness.

I can only speak for myself, but the kinds of problems Casey identifies suggest that the fact that I am not the only Canadian out there to take our lakes for granted. It's a problem of abundance. We have so many, we are so used to them. They are a part of our psyche, our cultural unconscious. So we don't recognize how incredibly lucky we are to have them. I can't imagine living in a country without easy easy access to lakes. This week I'm spending by one of the Muskoka lakes (I am one of the fortunate to have access to these from the comfort of a building without a million dollars burning a hole in my bank account) and I read this book sitting on the shore of Georgian Bay, which is my lake, the lake that I judge all other lakes by. 

I think Lakeland is saved from becoming too gloomy or strident by Casey's excellent writing skills, and his excellent sense of proportion. The book is not unrelentingly about the problems. It's often funny, often beautiful, and his turn of phrase is almost poetic at points. His love for the country he calls Lakeland is transparently visible, his desire to bring all of us along with him is infectious. He looks at the problems and then finds the good, the little toeholds where things might take off for the better. It's a friendly book, and much of what he writes is familiar to a long-time lake-lover like myself.

I think this is one of those books that every Canadian should read -- new Canadians, to orient them to a vital part of the psychology of their new home, and Canadians from families that have been here for generations, to remind us of just how lucky we are to have our lakes. It's a worthwhile read for others, too; I'd wager a guess that not a few Americans understand how wonderful a Canadian lake is, or have a special American lake of their own. As a primer for anyone interested in Canada or travelling to visit us, one could do far worse. It's a uniquely Canadian book, but I think its appeal is wider.

Longtime readers know I don't normally highlight causes here, but the Canadian government has decided we don't need to bother with lake research in this country any more, which is completely baffling. They are shutting down the world-renowned Experimental Lakes Area to "save money" (it will cost several billion dollars to shut them down properly) and we will lose a vital part of our scientific, and dare I say, cultural heritage. Be aware.

The Night Circus by Erin Morganstern

The Night Circus
by Erin Morganstern
Doubleday Canada, 2010
385 pages

What a lovely, lovely book. I have this thing against fantasy gone mainstream bestseller. I'm always delighted to see it happen, because I'm always happy to see people reading fantasy. But I've also always found that, to my dismay, the fantasy book that makes it big rarely makes me a happy reader. The few I've read just don't grab me; perhaps I expect too much of them. They seem bland, formulaic, and only occasionally very well written.

The Night Circus bucked the trend. It's definitely a fantasy, and it was reviewed glowingly in The Globe and Mail, and I was seeing it all over the place for a while. So I was leery. But the things Robert J. Wiersma said in his review were perfectly targeted to exactly me as a reader, so I had to give it a try.

The whole experience of reading this book is rather dreamlike. I think it's because it's written in the present tense, which threw me for a few minutes (I feel like normally I would be obliged to hate this) and then ceased to matter. But that choice means that, particularly as the circus comes into being, it does read like a dream. A wonderful dream, a complicated dream, a sometimes scary dream, but the sort of complicated, beautiful dream everyone hopes to have when they lay down for the night. It's also a puzzle, with the pieces falling into place slowly and carefully. Things that are hinted at near the beginning start to take on greater and greater importance; my favourite example is the way reading, books, and most especially stories all gain importance as the tale moves along.

If I had one small complaint, it was that while some characters leap off the pages with their quirks and desires, others remain thin or distant, even those who aren't supposed to; I loved Poppet and Widget, for example, and Bailey worked well for me, but Marco, though he was one of the leads, remained a bit of a cipher though I can't quite say why. I think I enjoyed the sections written from Cecelia's perspective better, which might have caused distance between Marco and I. Otherwise, I thought the writing was excellent, as evinced by the fact that I couldn't dump the book despite my initial reaction to its tense. The story is interesting, creative, and enchanting.

I would dare one to read this and not want to find the Night Circus, just once, and step inside its black and white gates to stare at the clock, get some popcorn and cider, and lose oneself in the dream.

Glamour in Glass by Mary Robinette Kowal

Glamour in Glass
by Mary Robinette Kowal
Tor, 2012
336 pages

I have got to get this review finished and posted. Seriously. I read this book almost a month ago, and have since been on a bit of a tear (besides this book, I have four others waiting for review too. Well, and I'm counting seven volumes of manga as one book, so...)

I'm continuing to read, sort of wandering where my moods take me. I felt like a re-read of Shades of Milk and Honey, wanting the blend of Regency manners and magic and unable to find my copy of Sorcery and Cecelia (never fear, it has since been located.) The Kowal is a little more authentic anyway, so it was a good choice. I loved it the first time around, so went ahead and got myself a copy for the Kobo, and saw at the same time that Glamour in Glass, the sequel that Cecelia first indicated to me was coming, had indeed arrived. So, yes, I bought that too. Nothing can quite match an e-reader for instant gratification when it comes to book purchasing. Still not sure I actually feel like I own the books, though. I mean, I know they're there for me to read right now when I want them, but Jean-Luc PiKobo crashed the other day, just in case I needed a reminder that ebooks aren't permanent. The crash was minor but the warning was well-taken.

Shades of Milk and Honey was at least as good the second time around; I'm not going to re-review it, as I barely have the time to review first reads. And from here on in there will be some pretty major spoilers for Shades, so... if you haven't read it and intend to, do that first.

I really enjoyed being back in the alternate history that Kowal created for Shades. She's moved out of England for this one, giving the reader a look at what life was like elsewhere -- in particular, Belgium just before Napoleon's return. Jane and Vincent are kind of on a honeymoon, kind of on a visit to one of Vincent's colleagues and friends on the Continent, M. Chartrain, and kind of working on commissions for glamours. Only not everything is quite as it appears; Napoleon may be down but he's not out, Vincent's acting strangely, and things go awry for Jane quickly.

I particularly loved two things about this book: first, I love that Kowal keeps Jane consistent. She's a product of her time, and has some conventions and ideas that feel foreign to me as a woman in 2012. Which is exactly as it should be. She's not an exceptional woman, exactly, except where she earns it; she is fierce and intelligent and therefore able to break the mold of what is expected of her as a Regency female when it's necessary, but when she does that she's bitterly uncomfortable. In this way, this book feels more realistic than many non-fantasy books I've read set in the Regency period. I'd love to talk more about this, but to be honest, I'm pretty sure I'm not up to the task.

Second, I love that Kowal can introduce tension in a romantic relationship without having one or both parties be completely stupid. This is a problem I have with many romance novels: the conflict between the hero and heroine often feels contrived, and the resulting romantic moments are exasperating rather than sweet because of that. Here it absolutely does not feel contrived; the conflict is low-key and incredibly realistic, the resulting romance satisfying, and one doesn't end up feeling like Jane and Vincent made a mistake in marrying each other. When the conflict escalates, it's for reasons that make sense for who both Jane and Vincent are.

I can't talk much more about things I thought about while reading without some major, major spoilers. Suffice to say that I think Kowal dealt well with a particular topic that can be fraught, she didn't make light of it, nor was it melodramatic. It was an integral part of the story without being heavy-handed, and Jane's emotional, private battle with herself was well-handled. I was pretty impressed.

Glad I read them, glad I bought them. I can see a re-read in the future, as I enjoyed them so much. Smart, entertaining, occasionally moving, gently romantic, always interesting... lots of good reasons to read these books.

The Name of the Star by Maureen Johnson

The Name of the Star
by Maureen Johnson
G.P. Putnam, 2011 
270 pages

Oh my lord, I thought I was never going to read anything again. It has been exactly two months since I finished a book. I've started a few, but can't seem to keep the focus or the interest up long enough to finish anything. The idea of writing a review right now is daunting, I won't lie. (Full disclosure: I am not getting much more than than three hours sleep in a row at night -- three hours if we're lucky.)

And now we come to The Name of the Star, which is an interesting case. I had started this before, quite some time ago. It didn't grab me then, for reasons I can't quite figure out. Because this time around it grabbed me good, and I finished it in two days.

I am a Maureen Johnson fan. I follow her on Twitter, which has been one of my better social media moves ever; she's informative, and endlessly entertaining. I believe I reported that I even purchased Suite Scarlett stone-cold solely based on her social media presence, completely on impulse, and did not regret it one bit. I've been eager for The Name of the Star since she announced it was coming; I wanted to see her take on the supernatural. And who is not a little intruiged by Jack the Ripper?

In brief summary: Rory is from very small-town Louisiana, travelling with her lawyer-professor parents for a year's sabbatical in England. While her parents are off to Bristol, she has been accepted to Wrexford, a residential school in the heart of London. In the heart of Jack the Ripper's territory, to be precise, which turns out to be a bit of a problem when a copycat killer appears the day before Rory arrives. What's worse is that Rory sees the killer -- and discovers that no one else can. 

And I like it. That maybe goes without saying. The thing is, if you like Maureen Johnson's other stuff, you will like this, even if you're not a fantasy fan. Because what makes this book great is not the interesting world-building things she's done (which is all seamlessly integrated, and works quite well) but the things that she does best: characterization and just damn fine writing.

Maureen Johnson makes writing look easy. (It's not, I know -- this Nanowrimo pep talk being one of my favourite bits of writing about writing). The story, from plot to characters to incidental detail, appears effortless, making for an easy read without being a brain-dead one. I don't think I picked out a clumsy exposition or clunky sentence in the lot. I like her style, too; I'm not sure I can point out why, exactly, because that would require more brain power than I have currently. Suffice to say that her turn of phrase is concise and clear, often funny, perfectly descriptive without being purple, and never cliched.

And her characters. In Rory, our main character, we have a sympathetic protagonist, an outsider who is friendly with most but not popular, who is smart but not a genius, who is not preternaturally brave or capable. In other words, she's very ordinary, but with enough flavour that she's not a blank slate. I like her development and her responses to the things -- sometimes very strange, frightening things -- that happen to her; it feels organic and realistic. She doesn't roll with the punches, because that would be unfaithful to the character even if it might have furthered the plot; she is traumatized and Johnson handles that beautifully. I also love Rory's wry, observant inner monologue. The other characters that crop up are necessarily not as well-developed as Rory, since [the lion's share of] the book is from her limited perspective, but they're distinct and interesting and feel like real people.

As I noted for Suite Scarlett, too, Johnson manages to comment quietly on some social and cultural things without being preachy -- here, her target being both the CCTV surveillance culture in London and 24-hour sensational mass media. She never investigates either thing explicitly or deeply, but it's an integrated part of the story, leaving the reader to ponder these things without feeling like she's been delivered a blatant public service message.

The start is slow; we spend a lot of time getting to know Rory and her friends, which works really well -- it makes the increasing threats to Rory and her world that much more alarming. It allows us to get settled into place, with just hints of the tension that absolutely explodes somewhere around the last third of the book. While the trademark MJ humour is still present, it takes a back seat to the suspense as the tension ramps up, never entirely disappearing but the seriousness of the situation is never undercut. I won't lie: this book kept me, a sleep deprived human being, up past my (admittedly fluid) bedtime even after I'd stopped reading for the night, worrying about what was coming next. Perhaps not the smartest choice of reading material for me to make. No regrets, though -- this book was definitely a good ride and a great read.

... Aaand, now to bed, I think, since apparently writing about the book is going to keep me up too. No promises as to when the next review will come up, and I'm really barely online these days to even comment on other blogs. I miss you all, and plan to be back when I can.

we'll return after these messages

Everything's fine, we're just dealing with an outbreak of teeth leading to a dearth of sleep. I'm slowly reading the truly excellent, though odd and somewhat hard work, The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, and I'll report on that as soon as it's finished. After that will either be Margery Allingham's The Crime at Black Dudley or Rae Carson's The Girl of Fire and Thorns, depending on which one has to go back to the library first.